Why did the chicken beat his meat?

Holy Crap, I hate driving in snow. Last night I slipped and slid my way home in traffic going a whopping 20 miles an hour. It took me twice as long to get home as it normally does. But I was warm in my car, safely moving towards home and for some reason, it did not Stress. Me. The. Hell. Out. That’s not really what this post is about, but still: Hooray for no-road-rage!

Then I sloshed my way over to the local High School to see Thing1 perform in his choir concert. What fun! It started with the 5th graders and all I can say is WOW. First, I should probably explain to all of you that I am a bitch and going straight to hell. OK, now that that is out of the way, let’s carry on. There was the girl who kept picking her nose. There was the hermaphrodite child that left me completely confused. Then there was the boy who for a few brief moments was my every reason for existing. He was dressed in typical 5th grade fashion. His shirt was only half tucked in. Both shoes were untied with laces dragging dangerously between his feet. His hair was a mixture of snow-hat head and I-didn’t-use-soap-in-the-shower head. Hey, we’ve all been there. It was amusing and so darn normal. And then… OMG… this kid standing in the front row could not keep his hands off HIS JUNK! Yeah, I know this is relatively normal too. Most parents make some attempt at threatening their children with the “it will fall off” story or something, just so the child doesn’t whip it out at the altar during communion or in front of Great Aunt Margie. These threats don’t work perfectly, but to some degree, they do keep the kid from innocently giving an X rated performance while standing in line at the grocery store. This child though – bless his masturbating little heart- was having a dandy old time rubbing one out (maybe it was his first and we were all witness to a sort of coming of age for him?) to the tune of “White Christmas.” Ah yes, I do love these events. I laugh and giggle the whole way through. When the 6th grade finally went on stage to perform, I was dangerously close to losing my shit. I mean seriously, how can you not laugh at that?

Thing1 was well dressed in that he was wearing a sweater that didn’t have to be tucked in, his head is shaved so there are no messy-hair issues and his father must have made him tie those damn shoes in 487 knots so they wouldn’t come undone. Awe, what a perfect boy. In so many ways, he is just like me. He’s handsome and charming and polite like me. He has the most wonderful crystal clear soprano that can only occur in exceptionally gifted young boys whose balls have not yet dropped. That voice, he definitely gets it from me. His father can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Anyway, I digress. Thing1 is aware that his voice is going to change and he sort of likes the idea of growing up. However, he has always been the darling of all his choir and music teachers because of that sweet voice. And so he struggles. You see, he wants to grow up and have hairy places and stinky spots and all such things. But, his choir teacher is HOT. What’s a prepubescent boy to do? Oh the conundrum. The ability to pick out and some how get close to the hottest women around, he get’s that from me.
And then the music started to play and I DID lose my shit. You see, like me, Thing1 absolutely must move and dance in some way when music is playing. Can. Not. Sit. Still.
However, when Thing1 dances, he looks like a retarded chicken on some bad drugs.
That he gets from his father.